


Billy Brown

by vkdemon



Category: Glee
Genre: Custody Battle, Divorce, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vkdemon/pseuds/vkdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, Dave Karofsky had lived an ordinary life<br/>Two kids, a dog and the precautionary wife<br/>While it was all going accordingly to plan<br/>Then Dave Karofsky fell in love with another man</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cannon only to NBK
> 
> Inspiration for it came from this fan video. It made me laugh hard enough to cry. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUs0aOowMzU

Dave Karofsky had everything he ever planned in life. His wife Jessica was his College girlfriend and a cheerleader. He’s played football in college and got a full ride scholarship. He kept his head down and gained himself a degree out of the school. He’d never quite made pro and right after graduation he heard the wonderful news. Jessica was pregnant. He proposed at Thanksgiving before both of their families and 8 months later she had a beautiful girl that was named Carolina. His degree and student projects earned him a recommendation and commission in his first venture. Only a year and a half later after his first big job as an architect she became pregnant with little Christian.

As usual his focus and determined mind guided him through great success in his venture and another job landed in his lap. Ohio was gaining an extravagant theater thanks to the contribution of some very enthusiastic funding from a star who once lived in the area. He thought little of it as he came home that night. He brought a bottle of red wine home and his mother took the kids.

They shared a romantic diner, Dave always had a flair for cooking and on nights when Jessica let him take over the kitchen he felt like himself. He made fillet mignon with seasoned vegetables and artichoke for an appetizer. He and Jessica made love that night. It was sweet, gentle as he always was. He always admired her beauty. Her skin was pale like abalone shells, her eyes a deep expressive aqua-marine and her hair the softest sweetest smelling chestnut brown. Her lips were naturally stained pink and her body was delicately boned.

As she lay sated beside him he sat up in the bed, looking over to the little pill bottle on the side. Inside was the little blue pill that usually was associated with old men who couldn’t get it up anymore. He’d come to grips with his… oddity years ago. He simply didn’t have a sex drive. He’d never been able to keep it up. No woman had ever been able to bring him up, but he never really had much time for girls anyway. He’d always been focused on his schooling ever since…. High school. He’d nearly been expelled from school. He turned his life around, focusing, ignoring the friends and enemies he’d made. He kept the same mindset through college. He hadn’t even noticed Jessica until one of his friends had set them up on a blind date. She’d said they were perfect together and he had to agree. It was all perfect… so why was he awake while his wife slept?

He walked into his kid’s room, staring lovingly at the little girl who’d been gifted with her mother’s face and nose and his dark curly hair. She was his princess and angel. He loved playing with her and teaching her everything. She’d just turned 4.

Next he moved to his son’s crib. The boy already had his smile and Jessica’s bright beautiful eyes. He was going to be a heartthrob when he grew up. He reached out to gently pet the soft wispy brown hair on the 2 year old head. His little guy, going to grow up to be the next Karofsky man….

He had everything he ever wanted. Two kids whom he adored. Being a father was a dream come true. His wife was perfect, elegant, but liked sports, happy to stay at home. He’d bought a place only across town from his parents. He even had a Golden Retriever named Rex. Why oh why was he pacing in the middle of the night like something was missing…  There was no time for insomnia. He met the client for the big theater project tomorrow. He took one of the sleeping pills his doctor had prescribed and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Damn those sleeping pills! The LED clock blared his time of panic beginning at 8:50. An hour late. The new client! Skip breakfast, save 15 minutes. Skip shower, substitute Old Spice, save 15 minutes. Wave to wife instead of kiss, 1 minute. Take back-road at 60mph until interstate, Save 8 minutes. Skip coffee, save 12 minutes….. Get coffee to keep sane, no time saved.  Park in more the one spot, kill engine,  run to elevator, ignore normal cheery greeting to receptionist. 32 seconds Saved…. 21minutes and 28sconds late for the big new client.

He smoothed down the shining blue tie, shifting his tailored jacket to sit straight on his shoulders. He was still a barrel chested man whose shoulders demanded tailoring in every nice suit he owned. He knew what colors looked good on him, or rather, he knew what his wife picked out looked good. He smoothed the pants of matching grey to his coat. He pulled a small vial of cologne from his briefcase, placing it on his wrists and neck.No need to smell like a neanderthal. He sighed, running his fingers through his short curly hair. His look would have to do, slightly more tousled then he would like. He usually took care to tame the natural curl in his hair, but today a few of them fell to his forehead.  As the little bell chimed he took a deep steady breath.

A shrill clipped voice rebounded off of the sparse office space, looked like the client was both female and upset. His office was uncomplicated, just like he liked his life. “My time is highly valuable and if your architect hasn‘t the time to respect that then I will find another. Your company is lucky that I even contacted you!”

As he came forward he cleared his throat. The thin figure that turned to face him was not female as he had assumed. With one hand on his hip and his immaculate fashionable clothing standing before him was a page out of the book of memories in his mind. One brightly colored scarf tucked around the man’s slender throat was flicked over his shoulder by those long pale fingers that had once haunted his dreams. Those eyes, so confident filled with disdain for everything Dave was and would become, turned to him. He once more felt like he was in high school, a body grown too big too fast, awkward with his movements and slow in speech.

“Good morning,” Pull it together Dave You’re 26 not 16. “I‘m terribly sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Save the apologies, they just waste even more of my time.” That haughty voice dismissed his greeting and walked into his office to side down into the chair, one long leg crossed over the next.   

Dave couldn’t help but admire the strut that the man pulled off. He walked in behind, wondering if everyone felt like a servant to a king when speaking with Kurt Hummel. Kurt looked out of place in his neatly arranged office, the flurry of colors and asymmetrical shapes of Kurt's clothing clashed with everything, Nothing within the office popped with color, nothing was out of place. His maps and drafts were organized in long standing folders on the east wall. His drafting table was in a completely different room so none of his creativity lay here except for one framed set of architectural drawings It was his first commission, a piece he was duty proud of. Dave sat behind his desk, back into his older more confident self. “Lets not waist time then Mr. Hummel. I understand you are commissioning a theater to be built. Do you already have a plot of land picked?”

“It has already been purchased. “ Kurt leaned forward, his tone all business, not seeming to take notice of any connection of his past to Dave’s.

The planning began and Dave took off his coat to be able to work a little easier. He wrote pages upon pages of notes,  many of them filled with sketches. As the time moved by Dave found himself laughing often. Kurt had always had a quick wit, but age and time had smoothed the biting edge. His jokes were well timed, and always with an undertone of scathing sarcasm. Dave knew he wasn’t anywhere as charming, but he found Kurt’s smile shining at him more then once. His secretary tapped in to let him know she was taking her lunch break. As if on cue Dave’s stomach rumbled in protest.

“Sorry. I skipped breakfast this morning…” Dave felt a flush faintly come over his cheeks. “Let me treat you in apology for being late. There‘s a little French café that‘s pretty nice in walking distance.”

Kurt’s face was smiling, like he’d once in youth dreamed Kurt would smile at him. Those beautiful full lips opened. “It only seems fair. ”

Dave smiled, standing to put back on his coat, feeling lighter then before. The trip down was quiet, but companionable like he’d never before been with Kurt. He reserved a table for two and sat on the patio to enjoy the spring weather. It was then that Dave began more casual conversation.

“So why Lima Ohio? Of all places to build a theater?” He knew that Kurt had yet to recognize him. He was hoping to keep this air of.. not friendship, but ease between them for as long as possible.

“I am attempting to give to this horrible little state what I could never have as a teen. A place to take in culture. ”

Dave couldn’t help the laughter. Kurt was still so much the same person. Now that he had time to watch him as he ordered the healthiest thing on the menu with a small indulgence of a frappachino he could see the changes time had made. His face had lost a lot of it’s roundness, maturing into a longer more elven then imp structure. His eyes were just as bright, but they held a depth of years. He was taller, only an inch or so shorter then Dave now. He was still so thin that clearly he kept himself in that shape. Dave distracted himself from Kurt’s face by commenting after placing his food order.

“Lima never was very good about the arts. It could use it.”

“Do you know Lima?” Kurt asked sipping on his drink, his legs delicately crossed.

“My home town….” At Kurt’s confusion Dave gave a small crooked bashful smile. “I didn‘t think you recognized me. I‘m Dave Karofsky…. Dave ‘The Fury’ Karofsky” He felt the blood flush his cheek at his old idiotic nickname. That nickname had been a point of pride on the football field, but sitting here before Kurt if felt like what it truly was, a stupid teenage testosterone boost.

Kurt’s face was suddenly unreadable. Dave licked his lips, flustering for a moment. This was a bad idea. Kurt was now a client and he’d just brought up the past, the past where he had been a very stupid and confused teen. One with anger issues and no grip on reality. He had changed himself, but Kurt didn’t know that!

Suddenly Kurt was speaking. “You learned how to dress yourself properly.”

Dave laughed, how could he not. He smoothed the blue tie and smiled. “Ya, sometimes. I learned it in college. ”

“An architect. I never imagined you in such an education heavy field.”

“Despite being a jock I was a good student. I went to Ohio State on a Football scholarship. I played there before finding my career. It‘s actually very rewarding. ”

“You seem good at it.” Kurt offered. “You came highly recommended as a fresh and creative mind.”

“Thank you. I hope I didn‘t make this too awkward. I know I was an ass in high school to you. I‘m really sorry for that. I should have never treated anyone like that.” Dave waited for the response, the make or break. Why was it always so impossible for him to tell what Kurt was thinking in a coherent manner?

“I forgive you. In honesty I forgave you a long time ago. I moved on, but that‘s called growing up.  I‘m an actor now.”

“You were always going to get out of Lima. So what roles have you done?”

“A few commercials, one failed play about an ape and God… don‘t ask. I then landed a role on a T.V. show called Drama. It‘s about a high school drama club and the rag tag band of misfits in it. I know, a little young for me, but you‘d be shocked what a little makeup and clothing can do for you. ”

“That‘s wonderful! You don‘t look older then 20.” Dave beamed, honestly beamed. “I‘ve never heard of it, but then of course my kids are only 4 and 2. Not the same demographic I‘m sure.”

“Children? Really you adopted?”

“No they‘re mine biologically.” The conversation was halted by the check being placed on the table. Had they already finished their meal? It didn’t seem that long. He glanced up, once again seeing that unreadable look on Kurt’s face. He then noticed Kurt glancing at his hand. The one with the plain gold wedding ring. He decided to switch topics.

“So are you off to another meeting or do you want to keep working?”

“I have an interview unfortunately. But I‘ll have my assistant schedule another appointment for tomorrow while I‘m still In town. You can treat me to lunch again.”

“I‘d love to,” And Dave truly meant it.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave was on time, if you wanted to be honest he was early. His morning had gone better, he’d gotten time to kiss his wife and children, a shower and driven the speed limit. He even stopped into the Starbucks to pick up breakfast, however the turning in his stomach prevented his intentions. He sipped the hot coffee as he walked into his office building. He smiled widely to the young receptionist. He chatted amiably with her for a few minutes, causing a few giggled from the usually professional woman. He offered her a parting grin that gained a soft fluttering of her eyelashes.

Dave sauntered into his office, calling out a cheery greeting to his assistant. The woman of only 20 smiled a bit hesitantly back. She then stood with ipad in hand to read off the day’s itinerary.

“The Ross brothers have a telephone conference at 9am.”

“Wonderful!”

“You have a 11 with Mr. Hummel.”

“Good good. ”

“A luncheon with the rep from Granite Inc.”

“Shoot… Reschedule that for a 2 or 3 appointment. I made lunch arrangements yesterday with Mr. Hummel.”

“Alright I‘ll call them… sir? Are you feeling alright?”

“I feel excellent actually.”

“Sure..  I‘ll bring you the schematics for your 9 am conference.”

Dave was completely unaware of the giant smile plastered over his face. He hummed as he worked through his day. He couldn’t help himself, the whole world seemed brighter, more colorful. He subtly checked the clock and was shocked to find it 5 ‘til 11.  He stood the stomach that h had neglected to feel this morning turning over.

The familiar chirp of the elevator heralded the moment he’d been waiting all day for. It might not be terribly professional, but he stood and exited his office. Dave’s big hand extended toward the thin fashionista who had just sauntered into his office bringing his double-breasted military style jacket in green silk to brighten Dave’s day.

“Good morning Kurt!” Dave knew he sounded chipper, but what could he care? Kurt was an old friend from high school, no reason not to be happy to see him. Except that they hadn’t been friends, but such details were unimportant. His greeting caught Kurt in the middle of greeting the assistant. The fashionista’s heel pivoted to face Dave, a small self-amused smile on his perfect lips.

“Mr. Karofsky…. ”

“Dave please.”

Kurt raised a single eyebrow before nodding. “Dave. Good morning.”

“Come on in. I‘ve been working on a few drawings based on our discussion yesterday. ” He pulled up his briefcase, unlocking it to pull out the items that had drove him mind t distraction last night. He felt energized over the new project. If he was honest he would admit that it might have more to do with the impeccable creature sitting before him then the playhouse.

“So soon. I was under the impression that your would need to see the construction site first.” That tone. Dave knew it painfully well. It had been the same behind every insult Kurt had ever offered him, every sneer at his clothing …. His hands curled into fists, memories tripping down his mind, reminding him of how much Kurt had hated him.

“Completely preliminary I assure you.” Dave tongued his cheek, becoming self-conscious. Maybe he was a little too enthusiastic…  He had read too much into their luncheon. Kurt had just been polite. He was just seeing Dave as a man working for him, as a means to an end. They never were friends, quite the opposite. Why should that have changed over an apology and lunch?

“It doesn‘t really matt….” Suddenly there was warmth… He looked down to find a thin manicured hand on his thick wrist. Skin warm against his, skin smooth against his…. Whatever Kurt’s voice was saying suddenly got lost. “Huh?”

“I said I‘d love to see them.”

Dave’s head came up and he was vaguely aware of pain in his palms. He opened his hand to find his nails lined with red. Blood… He looked up to Kurt and found those perfect hands gently pet his abused palm. That large palm had the new circles of blood, but also white raised lines from scars. It was a bad habit, one he thought he’d stopped years ago. “Sorry… I”

“It‘s okay. I‘m sure you have a first aid kit.” Kurt stood and began ordering his assistant about.

What was he doing? He was slipping into the state he’d bumbled through high-school in. Confused, over-eager, crushed whenever Kurt Hummel opened his beautiful mouth. He’d been up most of the night focusing his energy into the building Kurt wanted, and one little comment that probably meant nothing had brought him crashing down.

Soon Kurt had returned with a small first aid kit. He removed that beautiful jacket to reveal a pale cream ¾ sleave shirt. He clicked each latch open before pulling out a small cotton swab and peroxide. Those pale hands took his injured palm and delicately tend to the wound. Dave couldn’t stop wondering what the teen Dave would have done. Probably lob insults and try to run away. He was a man now, in control of himself. “Thank you…”

“Let‘s get an early lunch.” Such a simple light-hearted tone, as if this were any other day, as if Kurt’s perfectly manicured hands hand’s just been cleaning something as vulgar as blood.

“Um… k.” Fuck he felt like a teen again.

“Clearly because of your work we are way ahead of ourselves. Let‘s break out a little bit. ”

Dave followed, keeping his hands deep into his pockets. He glanced to the clock 11:20. Early for lunch. What was it about Kurt that made his world change. He was a controlled man, one who always took lunch with precision at 12pm. He waived to his assistant who stared at him before he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Dave wondered if he looked once more like the hulking sweaty teen in a protective shield of a letterman. He looked into the mirrored walls. No, still the Pressed and presentable business man. He had sweat at his forehead, but his back was still straight and his shoulders squared against the world. He was Dave Karofsky. Graduate of Ohio State, architect, father of two, husband… these were the things he had made himself into.

He watched Kurt through the mirror. There he stood, hand on hip, continually nose up, as if the entirety of life was beneath him. His thin torso wrapped in the strange and beautiful clothing only he could walk with pride in. His long legs in pants that must have been painted on seeing as they clung to the pert curve of his ass. Kurt who once haunted his dreams always knew exactly who he was. He never had to invent anything around himself. He could have anyone, anything by a lift on an eyebrow or a crook of one of those long pale fingers. The same fingers that reached toward him now. When had Kurt noticed him watching?

“Let‘s so somewhere private.  You seem like you need it.”

“Yeah. Anywhere you want.”

“Follow me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Toledo was not the most fashionable city in the world. In fact it’s skyline was pretty damned boring if you compared it to New York, LA, Paris. Ok so he’d never gotten the chance to see the Paris skyline, but it had to be better then here. He looked out the window of the Crown Plaza Hotel in Downtown Toledo he could see a few glass enclosed structures jutting from the sky, but it was mostly clear open blue. It was something he liked. Boring, simple, controllable. Of course thinking a skyline is controllable really depended on what your comparables were. For example his office and the way it ran was far higher on the scale of things in his control. Slightly lower was his home, but he trusted his wife to keep his home simple. His work was entirely under his command. His body… his body was what he kept the tightest reign’s on. He knew how out of control he‘d once let it become.

Staring out the glass window of a suite in a high-rise hotel with the sounds of Kurt Hummel chatting amicably with the porter who brought up exotic smelling food… the skyline was practically his plaything in comparison.

“The food has arrived Dave.” Kurt’s voice rolled over his nerve endings after the tension of the morning.

His jacket rested folded over the back of one of the wooden chairs that sat around a glass round table toward the front of the room. On the table was now a tray of food that wafted with exotic spices and scents. He sat heavily, knowing it had been a bad idea to allow himself to come here. He was a steak and potatoes man, simple food, simple flavors. He couldn’t even identify what the spices were in the first cut of chicken type thing.

“I wasn‘t sure what you wanted.” Kurt began referring to Dave’s early assertion that he’d have whatever Kurt ordered. “I remember my step-brother Finn could eat a mountain of food so I ordered my three favorites.”

“It‘s… what exactly is it?” He looked down at the thing on his plate praying it wouldn’t be something too outrageous.

“That is Penne, Con Pollo Pesto e Pumate .”

“I‘m going to pretend like I know what you said.” Dave chucked deeply.

“Quill shaped pasta with grilled chicken, sun-dried tomato, pine nuts, basil pesto and cream.” Kurt described with flair, his hands waiving.

“And that?” He pointed to the dish closer to Kurt. He watched Kurt’s eyes light up as he spoke and wondered if he kept asking if the man would let Dave watch him talk for hours.

“Pesce Bianco alla Fagiole. It’s pan seared Lake Superior whitefish with Tuscan white bean salad, sautéed spinach and roasted redpepper butter. This is my favorite. It’s the only reason I like Toledo.”

“So it‘s all Italian? I was expecting you to order… French or Japanese or something…” Fancy. “Exotic.”

“We’re still in Ohio. There is some limit to what I can manage. Elegance and poise doesn‘t follow at my heels. I‘ve always been the one shining beacon of perfection in this drab little state.”

“I‘m sure you shine in Hollywood too.”

“Ah, not as much. You‘d be shocked how many beautiful pale skinny countertenors are attempting to break into show business.” His smile, which had been so bright a moment before thinned. Dave knew he was looking at a mask. “But I‘ve done well. I have what every actor hopes for. A paying gig where some where someone cares if you show up to a film opening.”

“You got your dreams. I‘m very happy for you.”

“Yes… what of you? Are you happy?”

“I have everything I ever wanted. A successful career I love, wife, two beautiful children, house with a white picket fence. Hell I even have a dog.”

Kurt watched him, his expressive eye searching. Dave wondered if the teenage Karofsky had it right. Maybe Kurt could see through him, into his soul and pull out every dark secret.

“You should come for diner and meet them. My wife is beautiful and wonderful.” He could feel sweat gathering at his collar as Kurt watched him with that same unreadable expression.

“I guess you never did get out of Lima did you?”

“It has a great school system” Dave wasn’t dumb, he knew that wasn’t what they were talking about.

“I have a differing opinion.” Kurt raised a single eyebrow before returning his attention to his food.

Dave tried to do the same, but Kurt’s manner bothered him. Once again the man was looking down on him, judging him when he had no right to. What right did Kurt Hummel ever have to waltz into his life and change everything he thought he knew. He had worn women’s clothing and bright colors. He was outspoken and refused to cower or run like victims were supposed to. He came to school in jeans so tight they must have been painted on just to make people stare at him. How could you not stare?! Kurt was always this bright shining thing of different and special. Kids from Lima Ohio aren’t special. They were never meant to be.

“I‘ve changed myself. I‘m intelligent with quit a few degrees. I kept my nose to the grindstone and worked through school. I didn‘t just let myself slide on the football scholarship. I made myself better. I have a wife who stays at home because I make enough to support her and the kids. I‘m a good father!” He could feel his temper rising with the need to impress upon Kurt exactly how much he’d changed.

“I‘m happy you‘ve found a life you work for Dave. But my question was if you were happy.” Dave hated that calm tone. When had Kurt learned that?! Shouldn’t he be screaming or chasing him into a locker-room to rant?

“I  have everything I want.” They both knew he’s said it too fast. “I‘m happy being a father.”

“Well that‘s something.” Kurt offered noncommittally.

Dave took to his food, done with this conversation. He didn’t know what Kurt wanted from him, He didn’t understand what he was trying to play at. He was happy. He was living the life he was supposed to. He was an adult now and Kurt Hummel wasn’t going to be able to just shake his life up again.

They didn’t speak much as they finished the foot. Kurt ate about a half of one plate and Dave downed all of the rest. He was going to have to put in some intensive work-out at the gym to work it all off, but it made him feel better and prevented more grilling questions from the fashionista.

Finally full and done with the food it was time again to attempt to talk. It really was a work appointment despite being in the hotel room of another man. He should focus on that. “We have some extra time today. Did you want to go to the plot and so some basic design?”

“It‘s about an hour ride.”

“My next appointment is at 3.”

“Sure. Back to Lima we go. We should stop at 7-11 and get slushies on the way.” Kurt’s eyes sparkled mischievously and Dave couldn’t help himself. He leaned toward the thin man.

“You‘re on Hummel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if anyone was interested all of the dishes described come from an upscale Italian Ristorante called Zias that does exist in Toledo.... according to google.


	5. Chapter 5

The car ride was filled with Kurt’s unending love for everything Judy Garland. It began with Get Happy, continued with Time After Time. Kurt was singing along with the old time actress and Dave couldn’t help himself. He smiled and listened. Kurt always had a beautiful voice. In High School Dave had secretly adored every single assembly. He had watched with anger, frustration, and longing. Now years later there was a muted fondness. The powerful grip of emotions had calmed after all of these years. For once he could just enjoy the voice with worrying that someone would see him, or that he was loosing control.

 

    “I‘m surprised…”

 

    “I thought Judy was pretty standard for the flaming stereotype. Over the Rainbow and all that.”

 

    “No I mean your voice.”

 

    “What are you surprised by?” Kurt’s thin hand turned down the music.

 

    “It‘s still so beautiful. Your voice.”

 

    “It doesn‘t exactly expire with age. Well unless you smoke like a chimney. It‘s never a habit I picked up.”

 

    “Good… I mean… good”

 

    The conversation lapsed as the car pulled into a large lot in Downtown Lima. He watched Kurt walk from the car and soon  Dave followed with briefcase in hand

 

    To most people’s eyes it was a lot of abandoned land. It had once had something on it and from Dave’s boyhood years he could vaguely remember a dry cleaners. Now Kurt in his expensive clothing strode right into the dirt lot. His hand placed on one hip as he began to gesture.

 

    “This will be the Grande Foyer.” He motioned, swaying as if he was walking inside to his adoring audience. “I want a copious amount of space. I want the ability to have the most advanced sound and stagecraft. Clearly most shows won‘t need it and often times the classics are the best, but should we be pushing boundaries as I certainly hope we do It is essential that all the tools be available.”

 

    He began to take notes in his rapid short-hand. He followed Kurt, noting each of his concepts. The place was going to be extravagant, but he would expect nothing less. The fashionista tapped his finger to his lips as he considered the necessary outer buildings. His lips were always so very red, like no man had any right to have. They moved with such extreme expression. Every time they pursed he stared… And … wait that was Kurt’s annoyed face. Crap…. He’d been talking.

 

    “ Is it feasible?”

 

    Kurt looked so damned perfect with that annoyed face. His cheeks were flushed from his exertion and his eyes were snapping green. He’d only seen that shade a few times…

 

    “Karofsky! The least you could do is pay attention to the man who is paying your bill.”

 

    Screaming, Kurt used to scream a lot at him. That flushed face and those hands, moving.. Getting closer to him, getting right up into his space. Just like now.. Well not quite. Kurt was scolding him now, that long digit pointing at his chest. He could remember what it had been like. Those lips soft as they looked the warmth. Kurt smelled like vanilla and peaches and man.

 

    Suddenly he realized this was not the past and his hand should not be on Kurt’s jaw, his thumb rubbing softly over his bottom lip. Kurt seemed as transfixed in place as he was. Dave pulled back suddenly, his mouth bumbling out an apology. As he put distance between then Kurt’s watched him. He was starting to hate that look. Kurt had worn it during their lunch. Disappointment, sadness a smattering of pity. Dave wanted to remove it from the man.

 

    “I should be getting back.”

 

   ~~~~

 

     Dave came home that night with a purpose. He’d returned to the office just in time to meet his next client. The car ride back with Kurt had been strained at best and down-right arctic in it’s clipped goodbye. Dave wasn’t sure if Kurt would fire him so he let his note pad and sketches stay in the office. He shouldn’t spend any more time on designing Kurt’s dream. He had dreams of his own to fix.

 

    Jessica was home and had just finished her preparations for diner. He walked to her, his hand reaching out to cup her chin, his thumb tracing her darkly stained lips. They were pink like a woman’s should be. Without even a greeting he began to kiss her. This sudden action came with shock from her and a slow response. Thankfully she began to kiss back, her small hands pressing to his chest.

 

    This was where he belonged. This woman was his wife, the one who held his heart in her gentle grip, the one who made his life perfect. He listened to a soft sound of desire press against his ears. That was the sound of her love. He’d never been this passionate, this in love. He loved her.

 

    Soon he was dragging her gently to their room. She was pressed under him as he knelt over her body on the bed. Her skin so pale and smooth under his hands. She unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants, letting the clothing fall where they willed from his body. She turned her back to him. His huge fingers found the tab at her nape. His lips pressed kisses on every inch of skin that he found hidden under her day dress. One it reached the small of her back she parted from his touch nd the fabric pooled in waves at her feet. Her back, pale, smooth, that waist so small. If only it stayed that trim. It was normal, her hips, the wide flare of them. It had widened since their son. He caressed those hips purposefully, gaining a gasping sigh from her as she pressed back against him.

 

    Her body stilled then, a long slow indrawn of breath. She was calming herself. It was a trick he’d heard her employ many times in their early relationship. It was always about one thing. His body, it’s betrayal. Her hips moved out of his hands as she turned. Jessica’s eyes were sad… no it was deeper then that. They showed a long dead pain, one that she had accepted as a fact of life. Without a word she walked in only her pale pink bra and underwear to the nightstand.

 

    She returned to him and pressed the small bottle into his hand. Dave threw them violently against the wall. He would not do that. He would not use the pills to force his body to arousal. He was in love and he should be able to do this. Before him stood a woman whose skin was pale and beautiful, whose hips were wide and waist small. She’d been a cheerleader,. She’d born him two children. He was going to be her full husband. Her soft voice broke through his thoughts.

 

    “Dave… What‘s wrong?” Those words had been said in exactly the same worried confusion the first time they had made love.

 

  _“Dave… What‘s wrong?” She was 21 and her brown hair was spread like a halo around her head. Her pale cheeks glowed with the flush of arousal. They’d been dating for almost 6 months and he’d determined it was the perfect moment to take that next step in their physical relationship._

 

    He’d planned the night to the last detail. He’d cooked lemon and garlic Salmon with a dessert of chocolate mousse. He’s chosen a light white wine to pair with the flavor of the fish. His small apartment was covered with tiny tea candles lending their soft glow to the room. He’d worn the slightly tighter dark blue shirt that she swore brought out his skin tone. He was dressed to her preference and she’d been swept away by his cooking.

 

    As they approached the physical romance it had gone even smoother. Despite never having a lover he’d educated himself extensively on a woman’s erogenous zones and the ways of sexual romance. He knew all of the tricks, the importance of placing her mind in the right place, the mood, the setting. The sensual voice of Marvin Gaye soothed gently over the room where he’d strewn Rose petals over his bod. The same tea candles decorated the now Silk covered bed. He’d gone to no ends of expense, exchanging his tried and true cotton sheets for inky black silk sheets with a white piping that Jessica’s pale skin would shine against.

 

    He’d petted, kissed, worshiped at her body. Her voice had caressed him while he would not allow her to touch. This night was about her, about how much he could show her of his love. He wanted everything to be perfect. It almost was. But his body, his body disobeyed. Instead of filling with need and pressing himself within  her he’d stayed limp, uninterested.

 

    He’d done everything right, everything perfect. He’d been romantic, touched and kissed every inch of her skin and still nothing. She’d understood, she’d taken him against her soft breast as he had cried in her arms. She’d held his hand as he saw the doctor. He’d claimed it was not uncommon, but unusual for a man of his age. He’d given the pills that allowed Dave to make love to his wife. The pills he used as a crutch because he….

 

    He watched her blue eyes, so gentle, so understanding, so worried watching him. He hadn’t ever refused to take the pills. They were a shame of his, but he’d never let her see. It was bad enough to have to live with a man who…. Didn’t want her…. He didn’t want her. He collapsed to the floor and once again sobbed into her soft breast. This time he knew why he wasn’t a man for her. He was gay.


	6. Chapter 6

It came as a shock to Dave that he could go on living. Every morning he kissed his wife and kids goodbye. Every day he arrived at work and went through his schedule. He was shocked to find a message from Kurt on his desk on Monday. It was simple. Kurt demanded Dave be finished with the preliminary sketches before he returned from his latest episode shooting in a week.  Dave was more then happy to have the work.

Working helped him regain structure and control to his life. At his office his new realization didn’t matter in the least. It changed nothing about his abilities. It changed nothing about his accomplishments. Nothing changed. In high school he’d always imagined that the entire world would come crashing down around him. He would somehow lose all of his friends, suddenly have to give up his love of sports and masculinity. He still liked football and hockey. He still liked cheap beer and pretzels. Dave also liked to cook gourmet meals. He liked candle lit diners and going out dancing with his wife. It didn’t make him less of a man like his high school self believed.

He though of his children. He still loved them with all of his heart. Being gay didn’t change that either. He watched his daughter marching around giving orders to her dolls and bears like a general. He held his son in his arms. Gay men didn’t get to be fathers, or at least that’s what he believed. Being gay meant you were alone without family for the rest of your life.  Not now, he was gay and a good father.

There was only one thing that was different and it hurt. Somewhere deep in his chest there was a blackness he’d never seen, or maybe he’d just ignored. It flared every time Jessica smiled. Each word of endearment for him brought that pain. He grimaced when she called him dear or love. He was avoiding her touches, the small pets on his shoulder that had been a comfort now chafed his skin.

Dave was once again walking through his house in the middle of the night. He’d been living a lie and was hurting a woman he’d vowed to love and protect to the end of their days. He dumped out the little bottle of Viagra into the trash. He was not going to lie anymore. He had to find a way to live on at home. He’d been straight all these years for her all that was changing was sex. He could remain abstinent

The plan came to him as the clock turned to 3am. He could help her be happy. If he refused the Viagra then they wouldn’t have sex. If they didn’t have sex then she wouldn’t be satisfied with him. She would seek affection elsewhere, maybe a neighbor or a colleague. She'd take up an affair and fall in love. In a few years she’d finally be ready to leave him and he’d be amiable and not angry or jealous at all. He could arrange to take care of the children and she’d run off to like her life with a man she truly loved. It could work! At 3am it was a perfect plan!

So on the day that Kurt came back he’d been three days getting up before Jessica work and going home after she slept. He’d done what normally would be 3 weeks worth of work on Kurt’s project in that time. When you worked a 15 hour day there was time for it.

“Dear Gaga what did you do to yourself?”

Dave’s head came up from where it had been bent over the drafting table. He chuckled at the tone of disapproval and shock in Kurt’s voice. He smiled rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just some old habits resurfacing.” He knew that me must look like hell. His eyes held deep bags of weight from his nights spent pacing. He'd stopped taking the sleeping pills and the insomnia was getting to him.

“You look like?” Kurt’s voice was dry and somehow Dave heard judgment in it. As if Kurt knew and had always known he would be a failure at being a man.

“Your plans are done.” He turned away from Kurt to bring out his drafts. The last thing he needed was to go over his home troubles with Kurt.

He thanked God that Kurt dropped the subject. They both focused on work. As seemed to be the norm time flew with the power of a jet engine and soon his secretary was informing him she was going on her lunch. The fashionista checked the watch on his wrist. The damned thing popped with so much color that Dave wasn’t sure it was a watch and not a time travel device.

“Would you like to get lunch?” Dave was surprised to hear himself offering. If he was smart he’d be staying away from the man who was inadvertently changing his life.  
   
Once again they sat at the little café. Once again Kurt was ordering some healthy leafy dish. He watched Kurt. He was talking animatedly about the drama going down with two of his fellow cast members. Dave had long before checked out of the actual conversation and was focusing on the life in his movements and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. He knew where he belonged.

Idly he toyed with the idea of throwing a slur toward Kurt. It was an idiotic idea, but somehow in his head if he made Kurt angry he would get close again. If he got close, that voice rising in anger and his hand stabbing at Dave’s chest. Maybe it wouldn’t be Dave’s fault if he lost control again, if he kissed Kurt. Maybe this time Kurt would kiss back.

Suddenly Kurt was standing, his deep red jacket pulled over those pale shoulders. “Come on Dave. I‘m clearly boring you to death. ”

“Sorry just thinking.” He picked up his own black peacoat off his chair and followed.

“Trouble at home?”

“Yeah…”

“What‘s wrong? Your little perfect wife burn the casserole?” The bitterness dripped into Kurt’s voice.

“Don‘t be such a bitch.”

“Oh I‘m sorry. Clearly your marital problems are a deep and insightful topic that make it perfectly acceptable to ignore your largest client for all hour of your lunch.”

“It‘s your fault anyway.” Dave growled.

“Your inability to handle your sexual orientation is my fault? Here I thought you were straight and happy with your 2.5 children and homemaker wife.”

“I am happy!”

“Which is clearly why you're so distracted. Must be some wild sex riot you two have. I never knew a closeted queer and a Susie homemaker would have such fun. Did she pull out the strap on for you big boy?”

“Shut up Hummel!”

Dave watched as something snapped in those blue eyes, something fiery and dangerous. Suddenly Kurt’s bony finger was jabbing into his sternum. “You are the cause of all of your own problems with your insistence on living in a state of den…”

And suddenly he was kissing Kurt. Standing out on the sidewalk of a busy street in Toledo Ohio he was kissing Kurt Hummel. He smelled like expensive cologne and hairspray and Kurt. His taste was Caesar dressing and warmth and what might be watermelon lip-gloss. He was everything he remembered in high school and so much more. He felt his body respond and suddenly for a man his body responded. Like it never did those nights he’d made love to his wife. He’d been gentle and sweet and loving and his body would not obey. Now he was angry and frustrated and demanding and again his body mocked him. Why did it rise now!

As they parted he whispered. “I‘m gay.”

“I know” Kurt sighed out, those pale hands fisted in Dave’s coat.

“I‘m going to throw up.”

“Charming….” Somehow that droll little phrase was all Dave needed to start laughing.


	7. Chapter 7

Dave headed home, calling in to tell his assistant to cancel all other appointments. Kurt had calmed him, his hand gently petting his back. They didn't talk much, what was there to say? He'd admitted he was gay, kissed the man he'd crushed over since high-school and then nearly throw-up on the fashionista. To his great surprised Kurt had been kind about it. He had very gently told Dave to go home, sleep, take a shower and think things over. Dave couldn't agree more.    
   
 So that's how Dave found himself pulling up in the driveway at 3pm on a Thursday afternoon. It was also how he saw the huge hulking soccer-mom-van in black with self-painted fire on the sides. His brow knitted together. He knew that van. It belong to Azimio Adams, his best friend since junior high. As far as he knew that man should not be at his house in the middle of the day. His blood suddenly ran cold.   
   
It was happening. Only three and a half days since he'd begun to disengage from his wife and she was already bringing men over in the middle of the day? She was already cheating on him. The steering wheel under his huge fist creaked painfully as it bent. His arm throbbed as he released the wheel, his knuckles suddenly changing from white to their normal color. He walked toward his house and put his hand on the doorknob. This was his house and within his wife was fucking his best friend. How could she?!   
   
He pulled his hand off the door as if it had burned him. Calm Dave. It wasn't so bad right? This was what he wanted. He was gay and couldn't be a proper man to her. He'd never been a real husband to begin with. He didn't have the right. He walked a pace on his front lawn, clenching and unclenching his fists. He had no right! He wanted her to have an affair. That was the whole plan. The image of Azimio's dark hand over her pale delicate hip snapped a wire in his head. No!   
   
He spun and threw the door of his house wide. He didn't even hear Jessica's words. She was surprised, of course she was. The years hadn't been kind to the twice-divorced footballer. His stomach was heavy and his face slightly chubbier then high school. His arms were still massive, but had lost most of their muscles definition. Azimio blinked, his hand moving back toward his body. The hand that had been extended toward Jessica!   
   
"Get away from my wife you bastard!" He roared, his body thrown toward the man who'd had his back since Jr. High.  
  
The blood rushed in his ears, pounding out a rhythm that blocked all other noise, including his wife's words. His fists flew and connected with heady satisfaction into Azimio's face. Azimio had been unprepared. The man blocked the next swing with his thick forearm and suddenly pain exploded across Dave's cheek. He shook his head, clearing it and let the adrenaline continue the fighting for him. He heard a muttered 'crazy fuck' before Azimio bowled into him with his entire body weight, lifting him slightly off the ground. Dave was propelled backward and suddenly he was choking in water. Water?!  
  
Dave breached the top of pool coughing and sputtering. Fuck. Azimio! He immediately looked for his best friend. He'd killed him! Fuck!  
  
"Azimio!"  
  
"Fuck Dave, don't try to kill my ears too." The flustered and slightly amused sound of his best friend calmed Dave's nerves. "You gonna tell me why I had to tackle your fat ass into your pool while I'm picking up YOUR twerp to go on a play date with my daughter?"  
  
"Play date?"  
  
"Yup. They come over for play time and dress-up at my place every other week. Dude man you were there when we working it out like... 4 months ago."  
  
"Shit" He'd just attacked his best friend for being a good father and a good friend.  
  
"What the hell did you _think_ was happening?" Azimio offered him an arm to hoist himself from the pool.  
  
"Stupid crap." He took it and just like that Azimio was smiling and back to being his best friend.  
  
"You always did come up with stupid crap man. We cool?"  
  
"Yeah.... So you're not having an affair with Jessica?"  
  
"When did you catch the crazy man? Woman's like my sister. What's wrong with you man?"  
  
"I don't even know anymore." He took the towel that floated in front of him. Holding the towel was a worried looking Jessica. He tried to offer a smile, but it came out conflicted, like his head. Jessica pursed her lips, but said nothing before moving back into the house to calm the children.  
  
"Dave... you ain't never acted like this before. Not since high school when you randomly went all hulk on everyone's ass right before senior year."  
  
"Yeah... feels like that again."  
  
"So you and Jessica having problems? You two never fight."  
  
"Is that normal Zimi?" He sighed, unbuttoning the soaked shirt. "Aren't couples supposed to have fights and get mad and then make up. I don't remember the last time we fought about anything."  
  
"Fuck am I supposed to know? I've got two ex-wives. I fought with them so much one threw me out and took my kids and the other cheated on me and left the kids."  
  
"You're no help."  
  
"My body where you hit says different." Azimio grinned wide. "You ready to face the music?"  
  
" Huh?"  
  
"We gunna be fussed over because we're grown men roughhousing like teens."  
  
"Joy."


	8. Chapter 8

Dave was exceptionally happy to be dry again. After his sudden meeting with the swimming pool and explosion of fist into his best friend's face, it was high time that he get a little happy feeling. Unfortunately, it didn't last very long. He was sitting on the bed he'd shared with his wife for years. When Jessica came into the room and shut the door behind her he knew this was going to be bad. He decided to start.

"Where are the kids?"

"Azimio took them for a few hours while we talk," her hands folded in her lap as she sat on the bed.

"Good... "

"Dave darling, what's going on?"

"I... just, I got a few stupid ideas in my head. I thought that Azimio..."

"He was picking up the kids. I would never cheat Dave. How can you even think that?"

"I know you wouldn't. It's not about you. I've.... Don't you ever feel like we're living a lie?"

"You've been lying?  About what Dave?"

"I... I'm not a real man"

"Is this about the other night? Dave I know. I've know for years. I've always accommodated for your condition."

"It's not medical."

"There's a pill for it, of course it's medical."

"You're not listening"

"You're tired. Just take your sleep pill and get some rest."

"I don't want to take a pill!" He raised his voice, growling as his fists clenched. He sighed, trying to will the tension out of him.

"You're scaring me." Her words cut right through his heart. She was frightened of him. He didn't want to be that kind of person anymore. He'd spent high school hating himself and hurting people. He was over that. He'd become a different man. She spoke again. "You're over stressed with this new project. You just need some sleep."

"Sleep isn't going to change this."

"Yes it will. You can forget about it and go back to being my husband. I don't even know you anymore. You've been avoiding me and the children."

"Been busy."

"On the new project? On the new client? What's so special that you're hurting your family over it."

"Kurt's not the cau..."

"At least we have a name now." She cut him off abruptly, her voice sharp. "Kurt is it?"

"Don't be like that. He's just a client."

"Of course he is. Dave what's important is right in front of you. Me, the kids, our family. It's what you always talked about wanting."

"It's not real."

"Of course it's real. I'm real, our love is real, our children are real."

"I'm living a fucking lie!" He surged up from the bed, fists clenched again.

"Dave, please!" She was flinching away from him. He wanted to kill himself for that. He saw fear, huge blue eyes staring at him waiting for him to snap. "Please stop this. You can control this. You've been so good for years."

"I can't."

"You can. Just take your pills and go on. You've done it for this long. You don't have to be that man if you don't want to. You don't have to be angry all the time, you don't have to be gay."

"What?" Everything stopped. He couldn't breath. That word, that word from HER lips. "How... I... "

"Dave, I know you used to be that way. You can take the pill and solve it. I love you and you love me. What happened? Did some cross dressing male turn your head? You're just confused because they look like females. It's normal."

"You know... How can you know?! Why are you married to me?"

"You're not gay. You've fixed it. This is just a relapse."

He stared at her. What was this? What the hell was she saying. She knew he was gay. She knew the sick thoughts he got. She knew that he couldn't get it up because he'd rather watch a man's ass walk by. Why would she ever marry him?! She was still talking.

"Remember two years ago when you hired Jason. He was small and talkative and you started asking him to work late with you." Her hand came up to stop his instant denial of the memory. "I know you didn't do anything with him. I made sure he found employment elsewhere to make sure you were safe."

"You.. He was a good man. I didn't want him like..." Except sometimes he just enjoyed laughing with him. He'd brought the other male out to drink at the bar when he should have been home. He walked with a spring in his step. Oh God how long had this been going on?! How long had he been lying? How long had she been stopping him?

" Look, once your done with the project this Kurt will be gone and everything will go back to normal. No more temptation."

"No."

"It's what's best for you, for us."

"NO!" He snarled at her.

"Don't be this way, Dave. You're a horrible person when you're gay. You told me about high school. You were angry and violent and abusive to friends and others. Why would you want to be that person? We can push it down like we always have. We're in this together, or do your vows mean nothing?"

He stared at the woman. Who was this? She was his wife right? Jessica, the gentle joyous perfect wife. She never fought with him, there was never any strife. She'd been hiding it. She'd been covering it up. He's wandered, feeling something missing in his life and she just wanted him to go take his "life-feels-better" pill and pretend like it never happened. No.

He turned and walked out the door. He could hear her voice screaming, begging for him. He could hear the plaintive note of his name as he drove out of the driveway and toward the city.


	9. Chapter 9

How could a world be so very bright when a storm brewed - a storm that was his perfect life. His wife, his children, his life, all of it was a lie, an elaborate beautiful lie that he'd been living and now what was it? His wife knew what he was, knew his sick desires. He was so angry when he drove, straight toward the reason. How had it come to this? It all started with one man, one boy who stuck his nose into the air and told the world of small town Ohio to bow to him. Dave never bowed in high-school. He should have. If he'd just  gotten down on one knee then and there and begged Kurt to give him a chance, things would have worked out differently, worked out better.

A large hand hit the steering wheel, the abused plastic looking no worse for wear. The pain shooting through his hand only served to focus his mind. He wouldn't have been better. He was a horrible person when he was gay. He was angry and violent and lashed out at the world. Look how he'd treated Kurt. The images of the past flickered over his vision. The crash of  lockers and the shocked, pained face of Kurt. He'd put so many bruises on his body with so much of his anger. He'd done the same to Jessica. He'd thrown the little bottle of Viagra against the wall when his body hadn't let him be straight. He'd screamed at her during their fight. He'd become that thing again. He'd become a monster.

The abrupt honking pulled his eyes up to the light that had long since turned green. He growled and slammed his foot on the gas. He could just turn around. He didn't want to be angry anymore. He didn't want to be that boy scared and trapped in a world where the only person who might have understood was the person he'd run off, where he was fat ugly and alone. He wasn't 16 anymore and he didn't want to be. He'd lose everything.

He turned into the city, barely taking in the turns he made. His mind brought images of little Carolina with those bright blue eyes, she who commanded the world around her like a little general. How could he let himself be near her like this? He could hurt her so easily as he was gay. She was fragile and he couldn't control his temper. And little Christian.... the next Karofsky man... he could never see his baby boy again. He'd learn to be angry, to be like his father. He couldn't pass on this horrible existence to him.

A valet took the keys from him once he finally managed to pry his hands off the steering wheel. His fists clenched now that there was no plastic to keep flesh from cutting into flesh. He walked into the lobby of the hotel Kurt had stayed at the last time. He didn't even know if he'd stayed at the same place. It didn't matter. He had to stop this. He growled the name to the receptionist. Her look was thinly veiled disgust. He then remembered how he looked. He was in sweats and an old faded Ohio U T-shirt with wet tousled hair and slippers. She turned and picked up the phone, clearly calling someone. He didn't stay to listen.

Dave turned fast, walking with a growl toward the exit. His eyes darted to the sides, his shoulders slumped as he prayed no one saw him. He was mad, had to be, to be coming to Kurt. He just needed to drive off a bridge. As he began planning how to get his car into Lake Superior, a hand smacked into his chest, or he barreled into a hand, one or the other. He glanced forward to see a sight he both prayed for and dreaded. Kurt was there, a delicate hand on his chest. He looked into those endless blue eyes and broke down. He cracked, blood on his palms from his own fears, smearing over the beautiful expensive jacket as his bear arm closed around the slender figure.

Two security guards stepped forward but Kurt must have done something because they kept their distance. He was carefully removed from Kurt's body. That long white hand pressed to the small of his back and guided him kindly, but firmly to the lift. He turned to the receptionist. "Send up coffee, refreshments, warm moist towels, and one set of clothing for me and another..." He glanced up and down Dave's back for a moment. "A 2X set of clothing as well."

Soon the elevator doors closed behind the two of them. Dave couldn't look at anything but the spots on Kurt's pale green coat where his blood had stained the fabric. His violence was slipping over onto Kurt again. It was spilling onto his entire life, all because he was gay. "I'm sorry."

"You should be it's a Marc Jacobs." Kurt responded with s gentle smile. "It's fine. I have the money, I can order another. You, Mr. Karofsky, have a lot to say I'm sure, but first let's clean you up to something more resembling a human and less resembling a bad zombie remake. Blood splatter is simply not attractive." With that air of confidence and non-plussed attitude, he was ushered into Kurt Hummel's hotel room a second time.


	10. Chapter 10

The skyline of Toledo mocked him yet again. It was simple, nothing too grand, a blandness of a city afraid to reach out beyond and make a statement. All of the buildings were with purpose, no one sticking out too far. They never fell to the competition of who could build a bigger tower. It was the cityscape of a coward's city, too afraid of what the world would think of the Ohio city taking on airs and changing who it was. He glared at the coward reflected in a hazy shape over the city.  
   
The gentle sound of Kurt's elegant voice thanking the porter pulled him away from the window. He turned, allowing himself to watch the man. All those elegant lines in his body, the long lines of his legs, so thin in those tight pants. His curving ass, round and plumper then any one should be allowed to be. His waist was small, his shoulders still holding the squared broadening of a masculine shape. His long pale neck was beautiful and begged to be marked. His slightly upturned nose, those lips stained so darkly....  
   
Kurt brought him from the examination. His eyes pierced into Dave's soul, as if he could strip Dave down and lay bare all of his horrible secrets, all of the anger and sorrow and fear splayed on the plush carpeting for the fashionista to tiptoe through. Maybe Kurt's eye for beauty could find some sliver in Dave worth keeping and rebuild from there. Dave knew he couldn't stay as he was.  
   
"I'm... " Dave started, trying to express all of the myriad of emotions. "I punched Az." After a pause and Kurt's raised eyebrow of confusion, he realized that Kurt was not in fact psychic, nor did he know every detail of his life. "Azimio Adams... my best friend he was on the the..."  
   
Kurt cut him off. "I know who he is. So you punched Azimio... is this a common thing? I've heard football does cause brain injuries."  
   
"Funny, no. We never get into fights.. not like that anyway. I mean when his wife took the kids he might have decked me, but his wife left him. I mean that's understandable. " Dave rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how stupid this sounded to Kurt. He probably had a sing-off when he was angry, or like.. went shopping. Or whatever gays did... whatever he'd have to do.  
   
"So you were inflicting violence on Azimio for an illegitimate reason instead of a normal one."  
   
"I thought he was fucking my wife." Kurt raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "I mean I'd been hoping she'd find someone else because I'm a queer and I saw them together and I just... I saw red and bull-rushed him. And... "  
   
"Were they...?" Kurt asked leaning forward interested..  
   
"Nah. My own imagination made it up. But I attacked my best friend because of this gay shit. I haven't been violent in years, not since... you."  
   
"Alright..." Kurt drug out the word, clearly expecting Dave to keep talking. Dave really didn't want to, but he needed to get this out.  
   
"We ended up in the pool... I got lectured by my wife and... Oh God, Kurt, she knew!"  
   
"About..?"  
   
"About me, about how wrong I am about this thing about being gay. I've flirted with people who worked for me and she knew it and she.." Dave tried to gather his rapidly spiraling mind. He was sure he made little sense. "I take pills... .for.... Fuck, I had to take Viagra to be with her..." Dave heard what could only be a prim snort of amusement or possibly censure... "Fuck off alright."  
   
"Miracle of modern science, helping the elderly and gay men." Kurt said in that tone of dry amusement.  
   
"Do you always have to be such a bitch?"  
   
"Do you always have to be so stupid?"  
   
"I am not fucking stupid! Look you might have come out of the womb shitting rainbows and glitter but some of us don't have anything obvious like that! I like hockey and football and rugby and just about any other sport that offers the possibility of losing your teeth. I drink beer and have a foul mouth. I like movies with explosions and couldn't tell you what 'The Notebook' was about because I fell asleep half-way through it. "  
   
"You don't have to Dave! You can be an idiot male who likes other idiot males and be unable to tell the difference between Crueleon and Crème brûlée."  
   
"That's a type of Blue and the other is a rich custard dessert with caramel on top often made with a mini flame thrower."  
   
"How do you know that?"  
   
"I cook."  
   
"You cook french desserts?" Kurt's voice lost it's biting edge.  
   
"Yeah.... it's a hobby okay?!"  
   
"That's..."  
   
"Gay" He finished Kurt's sentence with an angry bite.  
   
"Cute" Kurt corrected with a raised eyebrow. Dave hated that look. The look said I'm smart and you're dumb. That look that made his knees weaken and his fists clench.  
   
"I didn't learn it for you." Except that he had. Back in high-school, he'd had this stupid childish dream of cooking a big apology dinner and inviting Kurt, and he'd be so happy with the food that he'd forgive Dave and let him kiss him again. It had been a stupid dream.  
   
"I never said you did..." Another of Kurt's unreadable expressions graced the elegant face. "Why are you getting defensive?"  
   
"I'm not defensive!" He growled, his eyes narrowing.  
   
"Clearly"  
   
"Oh fuck you, Hummel! That's a damned trick question and every man with more than 2 brain cells knows it. There's no way to answer it without sounding defensive!" He growled, getting close to Kurt, right up into his space.

"Is this the part where we scream and you kiss me again? Promise me you won't puke this time."

Dave stilled, immediately wanting to deny what he'd been about to do. He was acting on impulse again. Fighting with Kurt, kissing Kurt they were the same in his head. "It's just proof." He whimpered, his face turning red as he felt the tears threatening to fall. "I'm a monster. I can't even touch you without anger."

"Dave, fighting is about passion. And sex is also about passion. You've show the ability to have a perfectly rational, even flirtatious conversation with me, no fists involved. What are you so scared of?" Those words echoed inside Dave's head, battering off the walls of memory.

"I'm scared of hurting you. Scared of what people will say. Scared if I let the gay slip out then everything I hold back will slip out, too. I'm not a good man when I'm gay."

"Gaga give me patience. You're not a good or a bad man by being gay. It's not a huge part of you. It's who you want to kiss, not some huge definition. "

"You are. Everything about you is gay."

"I like things that are stereotypical, yes, but that's not the norm. Gay and straight have more things in common then different. Look, how about we get you in bed" Dave knew he must have looked terrified because Kurt's eyes rolled. "Alone. I'm not trying to jump you. Get in bed, have a good night's sleep and we'll talk about this in the morning."

"I don't want to lose my kids."

"There are plenty of gay fathers who adore their children and are wonderful role models."

Dave wasn't sure if he believed Kurt, but it was hopeful. At least there was hope that he could be a father still, at least one part of his life didn't have to crumble down.


	11. Chapter 11

There was an angel sleeping beside him. A demon of temptation and an angel of compassion, a man who sang to bring the heavens to tears and who's strutting walk could make saints sin. Dave wondered if it was the insomnia that was bringing forward the christian symbolism, or if it was his own guilt. He petted over the soft pale cheek that had snuggled against his chest in the hours since he'd fallen to sleep.

Dave had slipped into sleep easily when he'd first hit the bed. A few hours later he'd woken to find Kurt curled on the loveseat. The boy had grown long since high school and his legs hung off the edge. Dave was immediately struck with guilt over stealing the man's bed. He picked up Kurt and tried not to inhale the scent of his hair. He tried not to marvel at the softness of the strands against his neck. He settled them both on the queen sized hotel bed, trying to place pillows under Kurt's head, but the man had taken his bicep for the task and Dave couldn't find the care to protest.

Kurt's face looked so young sleeping there beside him. His expression was soft and relaxed, something he doubted the man ever showed another person. Dave wondered if Kurt had lovers, if any of them had seen him like this, defenseless, docile in his sleep. Some part of Dave's heart clung to the idea that this was special between them. The big man sighed, petting Kurt's hair. He had fucked his life over... again. He was sleeping beside his High School crush, contemplating divorce, struggling with knowing his wife had kept his secret from him for years.  
      
Jessica... the name that had once brought such happy emotions, twisted in his gut. She knew he was gay, how could he possibly understand why she married him, why she stayed with him. She had hidden it from him, but... No, he was being unfair. He was in denial, hiding it from himself and she was just a symptom of it. Of course he'd picked a woman invested in keeping him straight. He'd married her without letting her know why he couldn't get it up, even if he wasn't trying to lie, he knew. Deep inside he knew that it wasn't just Kurt. He'd created his lies and wrapped Jessica in them with him. He just prayed she wouldn't pull the children away from him.  
      
Dave shifted on the bed, scooting to sit against the headboard. He thought of his children, wondered if they missed him. Christian was too young, but  Carolina... She would surely be asking about daddy and wanting him to read her a story and sing. How did he tell her that momma and daddy couldn't live together because daddy had a big dark horrible secret. He felt the tears, but he'd shed too many tonight. He would have to move out, start seeing a therapist. Kurt claimed that his anger wasn't because he was gay, but it wasn't connected to anything else. He'd have to find a way to separate the two before he could make a life. His fingers petted the soft auburn locks. There was no anger right now, just calm, contemplation... and insomnia.  
      
Dave rubbed a hand over his eyes in exhaustion. So the insomnia was still here, being next to a man he wanted instead of a woman he didn't didn't change that. He glanced down at the stiffness pushing at the soft material of the new sweatpants. It did change his dependency on Viagra. He very lightly pressed his hand over his erection, mistakenly thinking it would encourage it to go down. Instead he gasped out at the pleasure flushing through him. This was wrong... so wrong to have such need and desire just by laying beside Kurt.

By all rights, Kurt should not be arousing. His pajamas left everything to the imagination, the dark blue long-sleeved button up with matching pants barely showed his throat. None of his collarbone showed, nor did any of his arms or legs. But still, prim and proper tucked under the slightly darker shade Blue covers, Kurt stirred his passions like he hadn't felt at any other moment.

Dave gave in, his hand delving into the sweat pants. He watched the slow fall and rise of Kurt's breath and felt the feather soft of his hair under his other hand. He imagined Kurt's smile, his finger crooked to beckon Dave to him, his long body crawling backward on a huge bed. He'd pull off whatever soft pretty fancy scarf he had and would catch it around Dave's neck, pulling him in to a gentle kiss that would soon deepen. His high voice would keen Dave's name over and over and when he had enough with teasing, he'd push Dave onto his back and bury himself deep in Dave's body. He'd rock into him, whispering words of love and praise. Dave stared down at the white sticky mess on his hand. "Yup... definitely gay... and in love...."

Being in love was supposed to be a happy, joyful thing, but somehow this was more then that. It was definitely happy, the simple pleasure of being near Kurt was enough for him to let the smile past his lips. It was also painful, a clenching on his heart knowing he was in love with a man he could never have. Dave knew he was screwed up and his life was about to take some painful twists and turns. He'd have to get divorced, have to arrange custody. He could get a new place, have it set up with rooms for the little ones. His wife could take the house, or they could sell it.

He shifted out of the bed and to the bathroom, cleaning his hands. As he looked into the mirror at the round faced man, he spoke. "I'm gay. I love my children." It was all he needed, honesty and something to live for. He wrote a simple note to Kurt and left it on top of the man's phone. Thank you.


	12. Chapter 12

Life was not getting easier. Work had piled up during Dave Karofsky's half-week breakdown. He was frantically attempting to put his life back together and sort out the arrangements. He and his wife were not going to be getting back together, he couldn't live that lie anymore, so at least that was looking up. He was calmer in himself, so much of his effort had gone into lying to himself, that he found his mind clearer and sharper then it had been in years. He visited his little ones during the evening before heading over to his current place to crash.  
      
"Honey I'm home," he called out into the long hallway of the apartment of one Azimio Adams.  
      
The first and most important thing in Azimio's house was the huge 52" LCD T.V. It rested on a stand that seemed to be made out of two egg-crates. His couch was old, stained from overenthusiastic sports cheering with beer in hand and more then one accident by Azimio's daughter right after the second divorce. It was a good thing the little one was finally out of diaper. Az never had learned to plan ahead very well.

Dave walked into the kitchen, pulling out a few ingredients that he'd bought. Azimio's fridge was usually filled with instant dinners and beer. Dave refused to live like that, even if it was tempting. The pipes of the apartment sputtered, and he knew Az had just shut off the shower. A few minutes later, as the water was slowly heating, Az came out with a yellowing towel that had never seen bleach in all it's years, slung low around the dark hips of his best friend. "Yo," Az greeted.

"Boxers."

 "Yes, momma. Whatcha cooking?" Azimio inquired as he picked a pair of cleanish boxers off the laundry pile.

"Pasta with meat sauce, nothing terribly fancy."

"Better then what I usually eat. " Azimio sat heavily on the old couch, pulling up sports center on the out of place T.V. "So have you done the paperwork or is this temporary? You never did talk about it."

"I contacted a lawyer," he said with a slow inhale and exhale of breath.

Azimio muted the television. "You sure you want to do this? I mean you two were perfect. I mean...." Az took a moment to consider his words carefully. "I'm probably the last person who has any right to give you advice, but.... You sure you want to give up what made you happy for so long? I mean, is the fight that important?"

"Yes. You know why we were so perfect?" It wasn't a bitter sound, but a resigned one. "It was a lie."

Azimio didn't respond. His eyes turned back to the T.V., but the sound stayed off. Dave could talk if he needed to, but otherwise they would just eat, watch sports center and then crash. Dave was always glad for his best friend's unwillingness to push him. Once the simple meal was done, he brought a plate to Azimio and sat on the other side of the couch. A silent hockey player slammed another into a mute wall with a deaf cheering crowd. "I'm gay."

Azimio stared at the screen. His plate was half-finished and a beer was in his hand. At first, he didn't react, taking a sip of his drink. After about a minute Dave decided to try again. "Az, I'm gay."

"Heard ya the first time." Another long space of time played out between them.

"Nothing to say?"

"Should I have something to say?"

"I dunno. You hate me now?" Dave hated how weak that sounded. "I can pack up and find a motel or something."

"You checking me out?" Azimio kept his face toward the T.V.

"What? No man. You're my best friend. It's like checking out my brother. Gross and off limits."

"Then I guess you can stay here."

"Did you know?"

"How the hell was I supposed ta know?" Az's voice gained that slight whine that gave away his opinion of a stupid question.

"I don't know. She did... She was trying to keep me away from it."

"Well, hell, no wonder you're getting divorced. Hell of a thing to live with."

The silence stretched between them. Neither man looked at the other. Soon the plates were empty and two beers sat at each of their feet. The game ended and someone won, but Dave couldn't find the will to care. He put the dishes in the sink and tossed the cans into the trash bag hanging from the front door knob. As he headed toward the second bedroom with the pretty princess sheets, Azimio spoke again.

"You ain't gonna start singing or wearing skirts or going all fairy and wear make-up, are you?"

"Nah, man. I'm still just me."

"Then you let me know when you gonna have crazy butt-sex so I don't walk out to your dick up in some guy."

"Could be some guy up in me." He gave a sideways grin. If the joke worked, then he knew they were cool.

"Dammit. Your ass is the last thing I wanna think about before sleep! Man, you gonna give me nightmares." His smile was wide as he shouldered Dave. "You suck, you know that? Now I have to learn a bunch of gay pick up lines to be your post-marriage wing man. I had it all planned at a strip club, too."

Dave laughed and wondered if his chest was just going to keep getting lighter with every person he told.


	13. Chapter 13

Work, plus a trip to his attorney to drop off a payment and sign a list of what property was his and what was Jessica's left him drained. A weary hand rubbed through his hair and neck as he pressed the code to access his voice mails. He undid he top of a Guinness as it announced four missed calls. The first voice was the nasal whine of Jessica's sister, Susan.

"You should be ashamed. After all she's put up with, all your little 'issues'." He could see the air quotes the lushy elder sister adored. "And you go and divorce her. I've sent her to my husband's brother. You'll pay alimony out your faggot ass."

He delete the message and grabbed a harder drink. The next was the calmer tones of Jessica's father.

"David, It's Mark. I know this is a hard time. You always were my favorite son in law. Every marriage has it's hard times. Just... look you're a good father and I hate to see this blow out of proportion. Why don't you come down this weekend and we can have a few beers and just talk, man to man."

Dave always liked Jessica's father. In a house of three women Mark was a calm voice, even if he rarely spoke up. He'd sit next to Dave and they'd drink a few beers and talk about sports, or politics and when they didn't agree always enjoyed the debate. Mark never got along with his eldest daughter's husband, they were married far too young and against the father's wishes. He always found a kinship with Mark. Dave was going to miss the man. He deleted that message too.

The nasal of the lush came on again. This message said it was about 2 hours after the last. He could smell the vermouth through the speaker.

"You don's deserve her! Ya never fuckin' did. Two kids and now she's got stretch marks an ya don't love her or wanna touch her like ya did in high school and she quit school all for you! You! Fuckin' marriage should be sacred ya freak!"

Dave cringed and deleted the message before it finished. Whenever Susan drank she started talking about herself. She was married before the graduation of high school because she was knocked up by her boyfriend at homecoming. It was a typical tale of two people who without a child would have broken up before high school ended, but now where stuck miserable. She was a drunk and he was a deadbeat and both tried to tell everyone else how to live their lives.

There was one more message. He nearly outright deleted it.

"Yes yes Margo I will do the interview now let me breathe... oh." The countertenor's hassled voice came closer to the microphone. "I hate talking to machines. I'm coming back in town. I want to see how my theater is doing. I'll only be about a day. Be ready."

Dave was mostly ready. The emotional impact of Kurt strutting through a construction site with only the most fashionable of hard-hats was never something he could be ready for. He beamed at Kurt, and his smile was returned by that bright sunny grin that Dave hadn't realized he missed.

"It's coming together." Kurt's lyrical voice commented cheerfully.

"It's all your design."

"Don't be coy, all of the ingenuity and work was yours. I'm impressed."

Kurt walked through the construction site. They spent hours on the site, Dave's charts and schematics fascinating both of them. By the end they were both covered in the fine layer of dust that seemed to dust the entire site. Kurt was on his toes, bouncing at each new discovery. Dave suggested food and Kurt demanded a shower so Dave offered up his new apartment.


	14. Chapter 14

Dave had never imagined the sound of water could be so tormenting. Sure he could have understood it if he had to use the bathroom and he heard the shower. That was something everyone knew. This was different. This was water, water falling on Kurt, drops slicking down his hair, over his cheeks, drops flowing over his neck. Dave groaned lightly as he sat at the couch that made up his living room.

His apartment was decent, three bedrooms, a good-sized kitchen with a small attached dining room. One bedroom was his, a king sized bed that felt so empty most nights. The second room was the children's, a new cradle for his son and a daybed for his daughter. Once they were old enough he’d find his way toward buying an actual house. The children’s room he could hardly walk into. The looming divorce and custody fight was currently being fought on the battle ground of his children’s time. They had yet to even see the yellow and green painted walls depicting whimsical images of dancing bears and little lines of Ducks following mothers.

The last room was his study. As cared for and detailed as the nursery was his office was the bare minimum. A basic table held his laptop with a simple swivel chair. The walls were the same basic white as when he’d moved in. His briefcase sat propped against the table. For being the least put together it was the place where he spent the most time. Dave itched to go back there, to check his e-mails or re-organize his contractor’s schedule... something other then sitting here waiting for Kurt to be done being naked in his bathroom.

When Kurt’s high voice began to ring true and clear into the hallway he knew he couldn’t stay still. Kurt was probably hungry. He would be when he got out. Dave rushed to the kitchen and immediately turned on the little attached radio to drown out Kurt’s voice. The vegetables needed chopping. He immediately got to work, using the items he’d purchased for his own diner to make a meal for he and Kurt. The radio blared, masking any and all sounds that Kurt made. Good.

A song he hadn’t heard since High School filtered into his ears. He closed his eyes, feeling it overcome him. _And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?_ The song he’d nearly forgotten, an artist he never paid attention to suddenly clenched his heart. _I learned to live, half-alive._ His entire life had been this huge lie. His wife, children family and here he was, finally honest, finally free and what did he do? _Runnin' 'round leaving scars_ He’d brought Kurt into his new life but instead of moving forward, instead of enjoying it...

 _I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed_ The ghosts of the past still haunted him. That kiss so many years ago. He’d ran, ran because he was afraid, ran because Kurt was afraid. And now what was he doing? The same pattern over again. Kurt was being beautiful and he was running away. He turned off the radio, hoping he hadn’t lost his chance. Kurt’s voice was always beautiful. Dave had never really let himself listen to it, really let himself hear and feel without covering it up and pushing it away. He was able to catch the shutting off of the water and the last few lines of Kurt’s angelic voice. _Take a chance on me. Gonna do my very best, baby can't you see. Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me_

Dave couldn’t help but smile. It was all he needed, that small acceptance of liking what he did without having to stop himself. It felt good. Maybe He’d tell Kurt about Jessica’s family, what was going on. He could open up a little. Kurt came out with damp hair and Dave’s dark blue robe wrapped around him. He shuffled around in his bag for a comb before beginning to preen. To Dave’s surprise Kurt willingly walked into the kitchen while still combing thought his hair.

“Good shower?”

“Decent water pressure. I feel better at least.”

“I’m glad.” Dave could hear his voice drop as his eyes followed a drop all the way from behind Kurt's ear, down the tendon of his long neck, catch on his collarbone and disappear under the terrycloth. Oh how he wanted to be that drop.

"My eyes are up here." Dave tensed for the rebuke. "But I'll agree that what's there is almost as fascinating."

"Mr. Hummel are you coming on to me?"

"You did invite me into your apartment to shower Mr. Karofsky. Not exactly standard business courtesy. It's quite scandalous."

"I'd think you like scandal." Dave felt a wolfish smile curl his lips.

"Oh no no. I stay away from the trashy tabloids as much as possible. I had far enough of that in highschool with Jacob Israel." Kurt trailed a single finger along Dave's collarbone.

"No paparazzi here. Just us. Alone." Dave was running out of things to say, flirtation was never his strong suit.

"None at all. What ever shall we do?" Kurt's hand was on Dave's neck now.

"Fuck." Dave breathed. "Shit no I didn't..."

"Not yet. I'm not that easy." Kurt's eyes were smiling so Dave knew he couldn't have fucked up that badly.

And then Kurt's lips were on him. Kurt's perfect warm soft lips were against him. He groaned and pressed his hands on both sides of Kurt's face, holding him there. He never wanted it to end. The moment ended with more then he could imagine. Kurt's mouth opened and took control of him, his hands pressing against Dave's chest, one pushing into the curls at hi nape. They gasped and pawed and fell on each other. Dave couldn't remember a single thing he had wanted so badly in his entire life. Kurt stopped him as they reached the point of tearing off clothing.

"Go go stand over there."

Dave had to obey. He backed himself into the corner of his living room, lips swollen and panting. There was no small satisfaction to see Kurt's still wet hair was stuck up from his fingers and his mouth was just as branded as Dave's.

"We should have that dinner."

They never did eat that night and a bout a million false goodbyes and stolen kisses later Dave had shared his first make-out session with a man, with Kurt.


	15. Chapter 15

A huge oak desk dominated the lawyer's office. Piles of files were scattered over the desk in a messy semi-order that Dave was sure only the large man behind the desk could sort through. Dave liked his attorney. He was high paid, but never cold.

Dave rubbed his temple as he slid over his next retainer payment to his lawyer. Nearly 4,000.00 gone on letters and fighting and they hadn't even served the divorce papers yet. He slid over a paper with crisp writing and his wife's attorney's name at the top. It was the reason Dave was called down here. Dave glanced down.

_Dear Mr. Karofsky,_

Please be advised that, my client, Mrs. Karofsky, intends to keep the children at their current home with her family for all of the following days.

Thanksgiving eve  
Thanksgiving Day  
Christmas Eve  
Christmas Day  
New Years Eve

If your client would like time with the children it is advised that he shall arrive no earlier than 3pm on Christmas and shall leave no later than 6pm that same day. Mrs. Karofsky will provide monitored visitation in her parents’ home at that time. Similarly, on Thanksgiving Day he shall arrive no earlier than 12 pm and leave no later than 4pm to not disrupt the dynamic of the family.

If you do not respond within 5 days my client will assume your client agrees to these terms.

Regards,

Bertrand D. Russel Esq.

"This is fucking bullshit!" Dave growled, the letter slammed back down on the wide desk. "Three hours! That's no time at all!"

"That is exactly the reaction they want you to have, Mr. Karofsky." Mr. Baker, the wide faced attorney sighed. "We can go into court and try to get a court mediated visitation schedule."

"Do I have a freaking chance?" Dave growled.

"Given the special circumstances..." The lawyer sighed, rubbing at his temple. "In New York, I would have a different answer for you. But no, it doesn't look good for a single gay father to get anything better than every other weekend."

"Shit. I can't... I'm not a bad father.”

"I know you aren’t a bad parent, Mr. Karofsky." Dave's counsel placated.

"I can support them. I've had a room all set up for them in my new place for the last 4 months. I'll go to parental training. I can't be kept from my children." Dave's voice broke.

"I think the best thing to do would be to try to talk to someone who can calm her. This letter is what I'd call an escalation. These kinds of matters aren't often about the good of children, but for her own anger. Best to calm at the source." The attorney began to strategize, laying it for Dave in a way that helped the tension leave his shoulders. “Is anyone in her family on your side at all?"

"I... I'll see if I can talk with her dad. He was always a reasonable man."

~~~

"I'm surprised you called, David."

"We can't keep avoiding this." Dave tried to keep his voice calm, but the incendiary demands of his wife's letter ran through his head. "You know what your daughter is trying to do to me!"

"I heard she was sending more letters." The sound was weary, almost as tired as Dave felt. "Every time she and her sister get together and drink she makes an appointment with that bloodsucker."

"You... wait you don't agree? She told you why I left, right?"

"Yep."

"That's all you're saying? Yep? Where's the fire and brimstone speech?"

"Must have left that home with my wife. She liked speeches more than I ever did. You want me to get her or do you want to talk about the real sin?"

Dave's mouth gaped. In the preparation for this call Dave had gone through everything, every word, every reaction and every slur he could imagine he would hear. When he didn't answer right away, the elder man took it as invitation to keep going.

"The sin is your kids don't have a dad. You're not around and they want their father. Those kids deserve to have a good dad. I know you're a good dad to them even if you are a queer."

"I'm trying to be their dad, sir."

“Good. Then you should come over. Thanksgiving will be pricklier than a porcupine."


	16. Chapter 16

"With the cosmic rarity of both I and Finn being home for thanksgiving Dad's going all out with the food and party. I wouldn't be surprised if he has enough Turkey to feed the old football team."

Kurt's voice has been spinning tails and relaying the holiday preparation into Dave's bluetooth for nearly an hour. Gifts for each of Dave's children were tucked into the back seat and a homemade French Apple Pie was settled in the passenger seat. Dave hasn't added to the conversation, but Kurt didn't need him to. Kurt knew Dave was on the road into hell and needed a friendly voice. Kurt began on the light, the adorable child he had spoken with, the details of her mother's fashion choices. It blended in Kurt's melodic voice, better than the radio.

Dave pulled into the cul de sac; years of spending holidays with his in-laws flying through his head. He remembered the year Jessica had been wide with their first child, chatting happily as they pulled up to the house. He could see little Carolina strapped into her carseat with Jessica, pregnant again, beside him in the back singing to him and filling up the quiet air.

Kurt's voice paused, reminding him of the present.

"Thanks for keeping me from freaking out."

"Anytime, David. Remember you can call me anytime. But I might have a melt down if you call while I'm trying to protect the turkey from greedy fingers of Finn, Dad, and the niece minions." Dave could hear the warm smile.

"Happy Thanksgiving Kurt." Dave stepped out of the car.

~~~

"Well if it isn't the faggot."

"Happy holidays, Susan. How's the botox hanging?" Dave's smile was all gritted teeth as his ex-wife's sister blocked the doorway.

"You should know that I don't think dad should have invited you. Or even talked to you at all considering what you did to his daughter." She hissed.

The scent of cooking hit him. Turkey and stuffing with the worst dry mashed potatoes would be just coming out of the oven. Sugar cookies were frosted and Dave's heart sunk. Today was going to be Carolina's first year helping. And he missed it.

"Daddy!" A tiny streak launched herself into Dave's arms. She was covered in red and white frosting and smelling of home cooking and joy. "Daddy! I made cookies! Daddy?"

The note of worry in his little girl's voice pulled him from his mind. He quickly cleared away the tears on his cheek. "You made cookies? That's amazing Carol-Bell."

Susan rolled her eyes and shouted into the other room. "Your faggot ex-husband is here."

And then there she was. The mother of his children, his college sweetheart, his saboteur, his Jessica. He tried to smile and she tried to smile back.

"Carolina, hunny, why don't you go give Grandpa a cookie?"

The distraction worked and the little girl scampered off. Dave watched Jessica, reading the wrinkle on her forehead that always came with worry. He could trace the lines at the corners of her eyes and counted the days she had spent crying.

"I'm sorry." She said it.

"Me too." Dave looked back toward the livingroom where the family he'd once been welcomed into was certainly listening. "I just want to be their dad."

"What about being my husband? It was a package deal. Wife, house, children. You can't just choose them and leave me."

"I don't fit the package. I never did." The confession washed away the lingering doubt.

"You could have tried a little harder. It was that client of yours, wasn't it? I can't stand the thought of you fucking some queer when you could be being my husband and their father."

"Nothing is stopping me from being their father except you. I want to be here for them. I love our kids. You know I do."

Jessica's blue eyes were filling with tears again and Dave felt his heart break. "So what am I after all this? An option? A surrogate for you and your lover? How long were you planning this?!"

"Jesus Christ, Jessica! I wasn't planning anything. I didn't even realize I wasn't cured after High School! I was lying to myself as much as I was to you. And you fucking knew!"

"Of course I knew. I didn't want a man who was going to cheat on me with my sister!" She was screeching.

"It's not my fault your prom-date knocked your sister up!"

"You know what, you fag, you can get the hell out of here. You're never seeing those kids again!"

Dave's voice was halted as an ear-splitting cry sliced through them.

"Look what you did." Jessica's tone was out of fight and ended on exhaustion. "I just put him down."

"I've got it." Dave walked upstairs, ignoring the pinch-faced sneers from the living room.

Holidays at the in-laws always found Jessica, Dave and the little ones crammed into the guest room with a bassinet that had once been Jessica's in the corner. Little Christian was wailing away.

"Hey, little man." Dave gently cradled his child to his chest, placing the little ear right over his heartbeat. "I'm sorry. Mommy and Daddy were too loud. Look how big you are. God, I missed you, baby boy. I promise I'll be here as much as I can. I swear. Nothing is ever going to change me being your dad."

Jessica leaned in the doorway and watched the man she married coo their baby back into sleep.

"Every other weekend." She whispered.

"Jessica... please. I can't stand to be away from them so much."

"Can you take off work early?"

"I do own the firm."

"Fine. You can pick Carolina up from kindergarten and spend a few hours with them at the house. I get off work at 6pm."

"You found a job?"

"I was going mad at home all the time. Your check covers the essentials, but... back to the basics, I guess. I'm waitressing." She sighed and brushed off the edge of her skirt. "There's still ham and deviled eggs in the kitchen. Little one will be up in a few hours, you can visit then."

Careful not to disturb Christian, he laid the child back into the bassinet. Maybe this would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time without inspiration on this fic. I got a jolt of it again and hope to get more. Thanks to Karolina for being a lovely perfect beta.in my hour of neediness


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